Words Mean Nothing
by Beccaisdead
Summary: Gerard Way is the popular, sexy, bully at his high school, his favourite victim? Frank Iero. But, Frank's world has just turned upside down and suddenly, Frank has nowhere to turn but to his bully for help. Caution: May Be Triggering.
1. Chapter 1

_**Chapter Uno.**_

Gerard Way was the sex at Belleville High. His eyes, his hair, his lips; the very sex. He wandered the halls like he owned the place. Confidenced Hung around him like a cheap whore's perfume. He strode up to the poor short boy humbling through his locker as if he were a cheetah.

"Hey Faggot." Gerard slammed the locker shut, just missing the boys hand and leaning against it.

The boy exclaimed dropping the book in his hand onto the tile floor.

"Fuck any cute boys thus weekend, faggot?" Gerard sneered, his best friend Johnathan coming up behind him.

" 'Course he didn't." Johnathan interjected, "He was probably too busy slicing his wrists open, like the emo he is, to even bother."

"Just leave me alone, okay? You two know nothing about my weekend."

The boy's sad eyes looked up at the tormentors on the verge of tears. They knew nothing about him. Who were they to say those things if they knew nothing? If they did know him, they would have known that Frank Iero was at his father's funeral that weekend. His father, the poor sad man, had lost his fight to the bottle, shooting his brains out onto the ceiling. All because his 't good enough. The poor drunk.

Frank sunk to the floor of his hallway beneath his locker watching Gerard's black boots dissapear down the hallway. They dissapeared beyond the corner just as Frank began to sob. The young boy sobbed like a frieght train had hit him loosing whatever essance of little hope he had left in the world. And why shouldn't he? He was never accepted by anyone and the whole world was out to get him, doing anything in its power to defeat him and kill him off. Why shouldn't the poor boy just let it?

Frank got to his feet and rain as fast as he could to the bathroom. He ran into the boy's bathroom blindly, and immediately sunk to the floor sobbing. Out of his control, big, red hot tears fell from his eyes onto the floor leaving burning paths down his icy cold cheeks. Nothing seemed better to him then going out the same way his old man had. The bastard was the nicest person you'd ever meet, but, his sweet alcohol brought out his depression. Depression was his addiction, and too much depression kills. Nothing would stop him from pooring the sweet liquid down his throat, not even the thought of his son not having a father through his final years in high school.

Frank opened up his backpack and pulled out the item his hands were searching for. His "life" line. He floors open the pocket knife and the shining metal reflected his tear stained face in it. His last resort if he ever needed it.

Maybe, today was his day.


	2. Chapter 2

Frank Iero sulked into his detention seat with a heart heaving sigh. Here is where he would sit for the next 3 and a half hours. He glared out the window next to him out at the snowing school grounds. He watched the lucky, laughing kids walk to their buses throwing snowballs at one another, and chasing their friends around the school yard. How he longed to be out there and have friends so he too, could do those childish things. He would probably never get that lucky.

The door opened and in piled more kids ready for their 3 and half hours of hell, like frank. Frank cuddled closer to the heater and put his head down on his desk. Frank was always cold. Whenever he got his chance to sit next to a heater Frank would take it without hesitation. A slam of the door startled everyone in the class, and Frank's eyes darted up towards the door where Gerard Way's red head had just appeared. Gerard's head moved as his eyes scouted the room finally landing on Frank. A smile spread across his sinister face and in seconds he had darted over to plot down next to Frank.

"Well, Well, Well." He started putting an extra emphasis on each of his 'w's. "If it isn't Belleville High's resident gaylord. What are you doing in here? Fuck the entire football team? It wouldn't surprise me. That William's has always come off a little fruity to me." Frank glared up at Gerard Way sitting backwards in the desk in front of him.

"Why do you care, asshole?" Frank sneered back without breaking eye contact with Gerard's hazel eyes. Truth is, Frank was scared shitless. All Gerard had to do was decide that he wanted to beat Frank up, and Frank would probably never be heard from again. Frank's mind screamed for him to back down, like a dog running away with his tail between his legs. Who was Frank trying to kid here? Everyone in Belleville High knew that he had no balls when it came to Gerard's bullying. Pushing back his mind's hopeless pleas Frank scowled at Gerard.

Noticing Frank's change in character from just second's earlier, Gerard grabbed the desk next to Frank and pushed it against Frank's desk; blocking the only exit Frank had to escape if necessary.

Frank was panicing silently, he really was going to get it this time, wasn't he?

"You got quite the sharp tongue there, don't you. Like daggers." Gerard grinned at Frank. "I like that."

Frank gulped, staring up into the face of Gerard he grimaced, snarling: "Fuck off of me."

Gerard's eyes faced and he was scowling again. Frank noticed the sudden change, and was taken aback. Had Gerard actually wanted to talk to him? Was that his way of being nice to Frank?

"Oh, I wouldn't want to even if I could, babe." Gerard grinned. "You just make it sooooo enjoyable."

The wink Gerard gave Frank sent a chill through his stomach. Feeling suddenly nauseous he ignored Gerard burying his head in his messenger bag atop his desk.

It was going to be a looooong detention.


	3. Chapter 3

Frank watched the clock like it was a pot waiting to boil-and the saying was coming true. It was never going to ring for him. The boys fingers traced the indent on the top of his desk where a pencil was supposed to go. Back and forth, back and forth. He had been sitting next to his enemy for what seemed like years. All he had to do was trace the pencil indent and listen to the faint scratching of Gerard's pencil as he doodled.

Frank's biggest hatred was for Gerard's artwork. Whenever he went to the schools 'Scholarship Artshow' for the 'Art Honors Program' he would be forced to look at the tomato headed bastard's exhibitions. His artwork made Frank feel all the emotions that Gerard was trying to convey and that was what Frank hated most. If only he was able to do something like that, the poor boy had nothing to convey his emotions to the world. Nothing to cry for help with-Gerard had it all. Frank only had his guitar, and Frank was mediocre at best only being able to play about 8 chords and the beginning to "I Love Rock & Roll" by Joan Jett & The Black Hearts. He wasn't good at all.

"See something you like?" Gerard whispered, noticing that Frank was staring blankly at his doodle. Frank not even realizing he had shifted his gaze focused on Gerard's doodle taking it all in. Etched deeply into the paper where ornate designs that were so beautiful it was all Frank could do to stop himself from gawking. Gerard's voice ruined all the feelings Frank now had inside him. "I didn't know fags had a sense of artwork."

**"SHHHHHHHHH." **the two stared up at the frizzy haired detention teacher and immediately quieted themselves. There was a quick crinkling of paper and in seconds Frank was staring down at the opposite side of Gerard's drawing.

_Like I was saying, see something you like? _

Frank flipped the paper over and stared back at the paper, examining it closer. He took in every difference in shading, and pencil stroke before flipping the paper back over. Frank longed to know what was behind the drawing, but, instead of asking scribbled:

_Why should I care about what you draw? You already know you're good. Why else would you write on the opposite side of something you spent so much time on? Not to mention the drawing clearly states that you have issues. _

Gerard laughed. The sound sent chills down his spine, and cause the teacher to shoot daggers at the two again. The scribbles occurred again, longer this time. It was long enough that Frank decided to comfily nest himself within his messenger bag again. Soon the sharp corners of the paper was being pushed into Frank's wrist in hopes of being picked up and opened. Frank ignored it only to be shocked when the paper was shoved down the back of his hoodie, Gerard's cold hand brushing against his back giving him goosebumps. Great, now Frank was even colder.

Frank retrieved the paper out of his shirt sending Gerard a dirty look. Before even reading Gerard's response he scribbled down some really offensive messages about how cold Gerard's hands were and if he ever did that again what would happen to him. After deciding he had taught Gerard enough words he proceeded to read what the bastard had written.

_Oh, Baby. I love it when you're harsh. _

Finally having enough and getting offended by Gerard's fake sexual remarks he wrote back:  
_Motherfucking tomato headed bastard don't make me barf. Fuck off, or I'll shove a rake so far up your ass you'll taste it with your brain receptors._

Frank. Was. Pissed. Who wasn't he to be? His father took his life only days before because Frank was gay and now Gerard was fucking around with him? The poor boy had nothing left and Gerard's sick immature comments weren't helping him.

Gerard let out a laugh under his breath, making Frank feel even more uncomfortable.

_Baby, having you as company makes this detention so much better. You know exactly how to turn me on. Let's say we get a beer after this? Whatchu say faggot? _

Frank's eyes began to sting as he read Gerard's note. He couldn't take anymore. Pushing Gerard's desk away from him, and excusing himself to the bathroom with the teacher he jogged down the hallway towards the Boy's bathroom.

He was right, today was his day.


	4. Chapter 4

Frank stumbled through the bathroom door into the soggy bathroom. Grey tiles lined the floor meeting at the edges with white and grey walls. The gloom in the room was unbearable, yet, Frankie was comforted by it.

Frank leaned against the wall, sliding down onto the floor with a thud. Sitting there he looked so helpless, he looked genuinely like a person that had nothing to live for anymore. Searching his pockets Frank searched for the cold, hard, metal and pulled it out in seconds.

Unsheathing the knife, he stared at the metal reflecting half his tear stained face back at him. He ran his fingers across the edge of the knife too mesmerized to realize that the razor-sharp blade had sliced his finger open and the blod was trickling down the metallic surface.

Once slice across his throat, one across each of his wrists, one deep into the artery of his thigh. The ways out were infinite.

Frank settled the knife onto his forearm making a small incision in his already rolled up sleeved arm. It stung. You could see it in his eyes, but, he wasn't about to stop. The blood trickled down into tiny droplet like splatters on the tiled floor.

He swallowed hard, the tears pouring down his face in buckets. Resting the knife on his left wrist and clenching it, he was ready to slam the knife deep into his wrist when the door swung open.

In the doorway stood a terrified and confused brown haired boy.

Oh, boy was he in deep shit.


	5. Chapter 5

Michael James Way was shocked to say the least about the scene in front of him. He was terrified. He had always known that Frank was the resident Crazy at Belleville High, but, he honestly didn't think he was this bad. He considered walking back out the door behind him, but, he was too good of a person to do that. He had to help this poor boy.

"Hey! Frankie, Calm down…O.K?" Michael's words were terrified to say the least, and he watched as Frankie's shocked look turned to a more angry one.

"**Who** are you to tell me to calm down? You don't even know me." Frank's hands were shaking on the blade and he moved it so it was no longer hovering above his wrist.

"I'm Mikey. Frank….." Mikey searched for something to say racking every last inch of his brain. "you have so much more to live for! You're so young, your whole life is ahead of you. Now, come on…give me the knife."

Frank let out a chilling laugh and in a swift motion had the knife pointed at Mikey. The boy turned pale white and held his breath as Frank spoke:

"How do you know what I have to live for? My father is dead because of me. The Tomato headed bastard makes me miserable on a daily basis. People whisper things as I walk by. I eat lunch in the bathroom because no one will give me space at their table. I'm afraid of being alone, and I AM alone. I have no one to go home to anymore, nothing except darkness and loneliness. Don't tell me I have something to live for when I know you're **lying. **"

Mikey's entire composure changed and he looked at Frank a completely different way. Without warning he moved to the paper towel dispenser and got one out handing it to Frank.

"Here. They'll make your face burn if you don't get them off your cheeks fast enough." Mikey smiled moving to sit down next to Frank. Frank stiffened but, took the paper towel from Mikey letting himself sob into it. In that moment Mikey realized that Frank really was alone and made it his goal that was going to change that.


	6. Chapter 6

Mikey was proud of himself. He'd just saved a boy from making the biggest mistake of his life and made himself a new friend.

As the two boys left the bathroom the left as slightly different people. After bandaging Frank's forearm and chatting about Frank's problem's and Mikey's Track meet the two had formed an obvious bond. Although, Frank knew Mikey knew he was gay it didn't seem to phase that fact that Mikey wanted to be his friend. Frank had his first friend and it felt like having family again.

Mikey was about to head back to his Track meet when an idea hit him like a bullet:  
"You said your Aunt wasn't gonna be able to make it to town again until Sunday?"

"...Yeah?" Frank's reply was a mix of confusion and depression. He remembered his Aunt, fun loving, beautiful, caring, but, what she was replacing was a void that even he didn't think she could fix.

"Don't you think it's gonna be sort of lonely being home alone for a week? Especially after something so dark happened there. Are you sure you want to be alone for that long?"

"Um...I didn't really think about it. The weekend was definitely shit. It's scary as fuck without anyone there." Frank replied low.

"Stay with me! It'd be awesome. No one but, my brother & I. Parent's are constantly away on business trips. The only one'd we'd have to worry about is my grandmother Elena. She watches us when they're away. It's peaceful-and she makes the GREATEST cookies you could ever imagine." Mikey's words were obviously excited. He didn't want Frank going home to something that could make him want to kill himself again.

"I don't know...I've never stayed over at anyone's house-except my Aunt's. I don't know if I could do a week...besides...I wouldn't want to be a burden."

"NONSENSE. Frank, you'd never be a burden! I promise! The house is lonely when it's just the three of us anyway! And, if you don't like it we'll go to your house and stay there."

"Um...I guess that would be okay. But, I need to get clothes." Frank smiled. For the first time in three day a smile emerged onto his face.

"We'll get them after, after school. I'll meet you here and we'll touch base then!" Mikey smiled.

"Deal." Frank's words signaled the two to begin to walk to the last half-hour of there extra curricular hell. Giving Frank hope that maybe his week wouldn't be complete shit like he'd thought. He may have lost someone he cared deeply about, but, at least now he had someone else to talk to.


	7. Chapter 7

The last half hour of detention went by sickeningly slow. Frank was relieved that in his absence Gerard had fallen asleep, so he could easily slip is backpack from his desk and move to the opposite end of the room without being followed or harassed. In hopes of busying himself, Frank pulled out his notebook and read his notes on the French Revolution over and over, doodling guillotines on the sides of his paper, and crudely drawn puffy dressed french girl. He glanced up at the clock every couple of minutes hoping for detention to end.

Frank finally having a friend made him look noticeably happier to anyone that would glance at him-or maybe it was the fact he just beheaded his crudely drawn puffy french girl. Either way, he looked happier than he was earlier and that made the teacher even more concerned with why it had taken Frank so long in the bathroom. Although, it was against her policy to ask students why they took so long in the bathroom, she had half a mind to ask him. However, wanting to save the boy embarrassment she decided against it.

Frank had given up on drawing and was staring at the clock, waiting for it to signal the bell to ring. He had 5 minutes left; packing up his stuff, zipping up his jacket and scootching his chair back a bit, he had himself perfectly prepared to leave. He had spent **way **too much time in this hell hole of a classroom.

The loud screeching of a bell made everyone in the classroom jump. Frank held his laughter in when Gerard jumped and managed to slam his head back down onto the desk. Instead of making a snide comment Frank was out the door.

It was going to be a great night. Frank stopped at the bathroom where he'd agreed to meet Mikey. Sliding down against the wall he sat down watching people's feet pass him in the hallway waiting for Mikey to get there. It was when a pair of familiar black boots stopped next to him that he brought his gaze up.

Those black boots, those tight jeans, that grey tank top...that tomato red hair...


	8. Chapter 8

"What are you doing here, faggot?" Gerard asked slipping into his black leather jacket. The smile on his face that of a child about to go to the candy shop.

"Waiting for someone." Frank muttered back. He wasn't about to let Gerard bring him down when his life was finally beginning to look up. Little did the two boys know their lives were about to change forever.

"Gerard! FRANK! You two have met." Mikey came around the corner and the grin on his face was wider than it should be humanly possible.

"Hey Mikers, yeah...I was just asking Frank why he was waiting here." Gerard smiled at Mikey.

"Oh, he's the one I texted you about Gerard! He's gonna be staying with us for the week." Mikey smiled excitedly. "Isn't that great?"

Gerard's composure changed completely. He stood there staring at Frank his mouth agape. Frank had been the suicidal boy who's father had died and needed there help? No, that was impossible. Gerard thought staring at the small boy sitting on the ground in front of him.

"Uh...Fa-g-Frank was the one you were talking about?" Gerard's words were stuttered as he stared down at Frank staring up at him.

"Yeah! He's my new friend, we met earlier." Mikey smiled.

"Wait...Gerard's your...brother?" Frank made the connection staring at the two. He should have seen it earlier. They had the same eyes, and the same smile. How could someone so nice like Mikey be related to something so hanious and cruel. Frank knew god had a weird sense of humor but, this had to be the weirdest joke god had ever played on him.

"Yeah! He's three years older than me." Mikey smiled. "It's his senior year. Hey, would should probably get going...Gerard, can you drive us to Frank's?"

Gerard just stood there speechless as the two boys stared at him. Frank's thoughts were a tangled mess of horror and disbelief. Should he continue to Gerard & Mikey's and face constant ridicule by Gerard or should he face his empty, dark house? He was on a verge of a mental breakdown when Gerard found it in him to speak:

"Yeah, Mikey. I'd be glad to drive you to Frankie's-that's if he's okay with it."

Frank just nodded. Speechless. This was going to be an interesting week.


	9. Chapter 9

The three teenaged boys stood on the doorstep of Frank's big grey house. Leftover Police tape lined the door and Frank didn't delay a second for the chance to rip it down. Crumbling it into a ball he threw it into the bushes on the side of his house. Keeping those kind of memories around was not something Frank wanted.

The two story house towered above the boy's heads as Frank set his backpack down on the ground searching the various compartments for his house keys. Unable to put his hands on them he poured the entire contents of his bag onto the ground. A metallic glint caught Gerard's eyes as he reached down to grab the keys.

"Found them!" Gerard smiled holding the keys above his head like they were a trophy. He was about to hand the dangling keys over to Frank when another metallic glint caught his eyes. Dropping the keys, his hand darted towards the second glance of metallic before Frank could react.

Gerard's hand met the cold sheath of the knife before he could realize what the metallic glint was. His eyes made the connection before his head did. His eyes moving to the wounds on Frank's exposed Milky wrist.

"Frank….what…Why do you have a knife in your school bag?!" Gerard's voice was a sound that neither Frank or Mikey had ever heard before. Was it fear? Disappointment? Conviction? Or Closure? Neither of the other two boys could pin-point the exact tone.

"It's for….emergencies." Frank trailed off genuinely not knowing what to say. He was sure Gerard had known about what he did to himself, or maybe the cherry headed bastard was too concerned with his selfishness to realize the people around him.

"Emergencies?" Gerard was on the verge of boiling over at the short boy. "Emergencies like the guilty need to slice your wrists open during Geometry? Or Emergencies like if you need to kill someone on you walk to school in the morning? It isn't for emergencies is it? It's for you selfish pleasureful addiction, isn't it?"

Mikey felt trapped in between a rock and a hard place. He dared not say a word to either of the arguing boys. Anxious to get out of the firing range he dropped to his knees busying himself with piling Frank's school supplies back into his tattered black bag.

"I'm SELFISH? I'm SELFISH?" Frank roared suddenly finding his back bone in the conversation. "I wouldn't need the fucking knife if you and your friends treated me like a human. I wouldn't need it if you didn't constantly batter me for _Who I am. _You know what Gerard you're the entire reason my life is a living hell! You're the reason I almost killed myself today. You care about no body but yourself, and your popularity. Who cares if a few people get broken along the way. As long as you can remain _the _Mr. Ivy League at our school it doesn't matter.  
I slice my wrists open nightly hoping for an escape from everything. Something I can finally control. A little bit of hope that the biggest pain isn't what other people can do to me with their words and their thoughts, but, what I can do with a little metal. That I'm in control of something as what once was my life spirals out of control because…because….because… **I am a fuck up. I'm a faggot and the biggest mistake my god forsaken father ever made.** My life is a never ending reminder of that to me, and you have the audacity to tell me that I'm a selfish and in it just for the pleasure? Well, You are dead fucking wrong."

Gerard and Mikey gawked at Frank unsure what to do, or what to say. Gerard couldn't be the reason Frank was the way he was could he? No, it was impossible. The red-headed boy felt tears coming to his eyes and he looked at Frank who was crying and looked like a child who'd lost everything they ever cared about.

"Frank….I never meant…I didn't know…I'm sorry." Gerard's words were broken and jumbled as he searched for the words to say.

"You know what, don't be." Frank wiped his eyes and looked down at Mikey. "Mikey, Thanks for inviting me to your house tonight, and thank you for the ride here. But, I'm afraid I'm going to have to decline your offer."

Without saying another word Frankie took the keys from Gerard, opened the door and slammed the front door on the skinny boy organizing a frayed book bag and the reality checked cherry headed boy on the verge of a mental breakdown.

It was time to do what he intended to do since that morning.


	10. Chapter 10

The bathroom was dark and musty smelling, probably due to the lack of inhabitance it had, had since the incident. Frank's dull eyes scanned the room searching for his most prized procession, coming to rest on the little spot where the clean toilet water was kept, behind the bowl. He carefully removed the small tissue box off the top and a candle, and lifted the bulky porcelain lid. Inside, floating in the clean water amongst all the pipes was a tupperware container Frank had stolen from his kitchen about a year ago. He crossed the room to the linen closet and dried the tupperware container off along with his hands.

Inside this box was all that mattered to Frank in his entire world. The sad thought of a boy finding this much relief and comfort in something so sinister is a damn shame. He opened the box and stared at the array of tiny metal objects. Box cutters and razor blades torn out of disposable razors littered the bottom of the box, and sprawling across the top was the creme de la creme of all his sinister possessions from the hidden spot behind the toilet: a black and gold hunting knife given as a gift to him from his mother.

Frank had always intended to use this knife for something special, and he up until that moment had no idea what he would ever do with it. It wasn't anything like his over-sized pocket knife like knife he carried in his school bag after he'd lost too many razors amongst it's educational contents. This knife had a blade that was at least the size of his hand, with gold encircling the blade in a sort of elegant effect. Frank had always imagined it was a prince's battle knife when he was little, allowing his childlike mind to wander in his imagination. Scrawled across the handle of the we're the beautiful Italian words: _"Finchè c'è vita c'è speranza". _

Frank had never come to know what the words meant, every time he'd ask his mother she'd just tell him that'd he learn the meaning in due time, and that he'd embrace it, someday. After his mother died, he lost all reason to figure out what the quote meant. Why bother worrying about the words of a dead woman, who never bothered to say goodbye.

Tears were weaving their spidery way down Frank's pale cheeks for the umpteenth time as he sat against the wall holding the knife in his hands. He watched mesmerized as his tears fell onto the knife in pleading little puddles.

What did he truly have to live for anymore? His mother died too young for him to have ever truly remember her. All he could remember were her kind words, and her beautiful songs he'd be put to sleep with every night. His father although, a drunk never said anything to harm Frank, but, the obvious distaste in his sexuality and life in general seemed to ora about him whenever he'd had at least three drinks. His father was the typical father that every kid would have wanted, especially when he was young. Taking Frank to baseball games, and teaching him to play guitar on those long summer nights with his overly Italian Grandfather.

In retrospect Frank's life wasn't bad at all until his parents died. He'd had a few friends here and there and always seemed to be the happy go-lucky kid on the block. Loosing someone dear to your heart can change even the strongest person and that's when Frank began to spiral downward. That's when all his real problems began to start, he's sure of it.

The in Frank's mind the knife's glint was more beautiful than anything Frank had ever really thought about in his lifetime. He longed for it's elegant blade to cause him relief to hid body ever since he started his taboo game. Ending himself with the knife just seemed….right.

He placed the knife over his left wrist smiling at the sensation of the cool metal upon his warm skin. The relief and amount of dignity he was going to get from this moment was the only thing that made his tears stop falling. This was it. This was when the pain would finally stop, and he would finally get to see his family again. Forget about Gerard, Forget about Mikey, Forget about all the homophobic kids at his school; **this was it, this was finally it.**

The slam that came next was undeniably the loudest noise Frank had ever came into contact with in his entire life. The noise had caused Frank to accidentally stab the knife into the silky soft flesh of his upper forearm. Not expecting the pain Frank exclaimed dropping the bloody knife onto the floor.

The next sound was even more terrifying than the first. Frank scrambled to cover up his arm with the blue bathroom towel before the bathroom door swung all the way open. There standing in all his over exuberant glory was his cherry headed enemy.


	11. Chapter 11

Gerard stumbled into the bathroom fast. He wasn't about to let Frank make the biggest mistake of his life. Sure, he wasn't the nicest guy in the world to Frank but, he certainly didn't want him dead! Especially if it was going to be on his conscience-not that he was trying to make this about him. Gerard bit his lip when he saw Frank crumbled on the floor like a small child, a towel wrapped around his arm. He could already see the blue darkening around the top of Frank's fore arm. He slid down the wall next to Frank with a heaving sigh.

"Let me see your arm." Gerard's voice was a flat lulled sound that sent shivers down Frank's spine.

"Why? It doesn't concern you. What does it matter, anyway? It's just a little blood." Frank muttered his words towards the floor staring at his feet suddenly embarrassed being seen this way by his worst enemy. Sure, cutting was Frank's escape, but it was also his weakness. Something far more personal than having your diary read.

"Because, believe it or not you do matter." Gerard grabbed Frank's arm, trying to unwrap the blue towel. Frank didn't matter did he? There wasn't any possible way he could matter especially to someone like Gerard. Gerard hated him…didn't he?

"Yeah. Without me you wouldn't have anyone to make their life a living hell." Franks words were like venom to Gerard, and his face squinted up like he'd tasted something sour.

"That's not what I mean, and you know it. You do matter, Frank. I'm sorry if I made you feel like you don't but…" he stopped mid-sentence when he saw Frank's stabbed arm. The flesh seemed to have been torn straight through, although there was no hole on the opposite side, Gerard was certain if the knife had went a little farther their would have been. "Where do you keep the bandages in here?"

"Top shelf." Frank replied dully, watching Gerard moved towards the medicine cabinet. In a few short seconds he had the beige cloth and was attempting to wrap it around Frank's arm amongst all the already scarring and scabbing slices.

"This is really deep." Gerard muttered not really expecting a reply but, to his surprise he got one.

"Not really. I've had deeper." Gerard just stared at Frank who was now looking down at his freshly wrapped bandage. How could he have let himself hurt someone so bad mentally that they'd want to hurt themselves physically. He had never in a million years have thought that he could hurt Frank this bad.

"Frank…I'm so sorry. I can't express it enough. I really didn't mean to do this to you. If I had known my words would have had this much of an effect on you, **Believe me **. I would have never had said them. I only meant to poke fun, not to completely kill your ego, and whatever essence of life you had left inside."

Frank didn't say anything. He just stared at Gerard's red hair strands not really taking anything in. Did Gerard really mean this, or was it just the right thing to say at the time? Frank was nearly sure that he'd return to school tomorrow only to be made fun of again, and decide to try again. If at first you don't succeed. Cut. Cut. Again.

"Alright, if you don't believe me we'll do this: I'm Gerard Arthur Way. I have the middle name of an aardvark, but, hell aardvarks are fucking cool. I'm 18 years old and have nothing against fa-homosexuals. I think it takes a lot of balls…oh..um…no pun intended…um to come out of the closet in such a homophobic world. I like D&D, Audrey Hepburn, Fangoria, Harry Houdini and croquet. I can't swim, I can't dance, and I don't really know karate. So, that's who I really am, who are you?"

Frank couldn't help but smile. Even though he hated Gerard he sure knew how to make someone smile when they needed it most.

"I'm Frank Anthony Iero. I'm 15 years old, um…I play guitar and um…I don't know…I never really thought about who I am…" Frank struggled.

"Oh, well…hey. Don't worry about it. We'll work on it." Gerard laughed, going to stand up. "Now, come on. You're staying at my place for the week and I ABSOLUTELY will not take no for an answer. If I have to carry you over my shoulder kicking and screaming I will. Not that you'd be much of a bother, that way. You're practically skin and bones."

"Hey. Am Not!" Frank exclaimed getting up shakily to his feet.

That's how the week that would change Frank Iero's life began. The week that would turn his worst enemy into something he would no longer ever be afraid of. The week his life would finally begin to go in the right direction, even if it would only be for a little while.


	12. Chapter 12

The way Gerard was watching Frank gather up things for his duffel bag made Frank extremely uneasy. He wasn't completely sure about Gerard's sudden drastic change of personality. After all, you can't build Rome in a day, much like change someone's views in a single conversation. Frank blindly grabbed clothes from his closet. Jeans, Tees, belts, anything he could remember on the spur of the moment.

"You should bring your guitar." Gerard's voice made Frank jump about a mile high.

"Pansy? Why?" asked Frank.

"Wait, wait. You named your guitar Pansy?" Gerard chuckled.

"Yes…." Frank muttered suddenly embarrassed by his guitars name.

"That's so cu..cool." Gerard smiled crossing the room to examine Frank's CD rack. Gerard was amazed to find that Frank's taste in music was similar to his. His eyes caught a section of Misfits Cds, and he couldn't help but smile.

"You like the Misfits?" Gerard asked amused.

"Hell Yeah. They're the reason Jersey is on the map." Frank smiled back at Gerard sliding Pansy into her case. He zipped the side of the case closed in a fluid motion and turned to Gerard again. "There. Finished."

"Ohh, Good. Let's get out of here…to be honest it kind of creeps me out."

"It's okay…me too." Frank muttered, grabbing pansy's case strap and throwing her over his shoulder, before Frank could grab his bag Gerard had it and was out the door. The change of character Gerard had gotten so quickly was shocking to Frank, but, he followed Gerard down the stairs in suit.

Getting all Frank's junk into Gerard's car was harder than it looked. Upon opening up the trunk it appeared to be over-flowing with empty coffee cups from gas stations. He nestled his bag amongst the dozens of cups and then carried Pansy with him strapping her in nicely to the back seat next to him.

Gerard got into the drivers seat ignoring the face Mikey was giving him of pure and other confusion. Realizing Gerard probably wouldn't explain what happened with Frank, Mikey passed Frank's messenger back to him now freshly organized.

"Thanks Mikey….You didn't have to pick it up….I could have done that." Frank muttered guilty that Mikey cleaned up the mess he'd made.

"No, No. It's fine. Really. I'm sorry." Mikey found himself tongue-tied.

"There's nothing you have to be sorry about…You didn't do anything. It's not your fault." Frank assured.

"No..not about that-although you do have my condolences and every part of my sympathy…I sorta got rid of any sharp objects from your bag." Frank tensed at Mikey's words.

"You did what?!" he boomed as Gerard locked the doors and pulled out of Frank's driveway.

Here Frank was, being driven to a new environment without anything he could use to comfort himself. He was fucked.


	13. Chapter 13

Frank stared up at the luminescent neon sign in front of him. The hundreds of words developing a single menu engulfed him as he tried to figure out what the fuck any of it was. He wasn't exactly one to usually eat out. I mean, the most he ever ate out was ordering a pizza or chinese from a store next to their local "Shoprite". What the fuck was a Bacon Cheddar Cheese Onion Ring Burger Deluxe and a Chimicherrychanga?

He mindlessly traced his fingers along the groves of the sticky silver round table he was sitting at. Why would they stop at an Ice Cream joint in the middle of December? Unable to figure out the thoughts going through Mikey & Gerard's heads he just stared over at the two boys. They were standing a few feet away from him talking about which one they'd rather have a chili-dog deluxe or a Chicken Sandwich deluxe. Frank decided to ignore the menu and the two boys, he'd forgotten his wallet and after the events that had happened earlier that day he wasn't really feeling the whole food consumption thing. Frank's stomach had become a ship being thrashed around by a treacherous storm.

Not having anything to help him escape and realize only he could truly harm himself, was the hardest thing to grasp. He'd felt like he'd lost another member of his family, not only his father. The poor boy so scared of life, and so unprepared for what was going to happen in his future. The very idea of being unprepared terrified him to a point that only someone with his condition could understand. It was like showing up at a test that could determine your future without studying. Absolutely, terrible. Why did Gerard have to save him anyway? What did Gerard care whether Frank was dead or alive? It wasn't any of his concern. Frank wished that he'd have been able to finish the job he'd planned.

"Frank, aren't you going to eat?" Mikey slid into the chair in front of Frank carrying a tray with a chili-dog, fries and some sort of soda in a styrofoam cup. The aroma hit Frank like a bullet and he could feel his stomach begin to gurgle.

"Um..No. I'm not really hungry." Frank lied as he tried to focus his mind on something else in the room that wasn't food related. His eyes came to rest on the checkered floor tiles.

"Oh, well..I understand. You did have a pretty tough day. I can't even imagine going through what you did." Mikey smiled picking up a fry and bringing it to his mouth with lightning speed.

"Yeah, it basically washed my appetite away."

"Are you going to be okay, Frank? I mean, really okay?" Mikey's voice was hallow as he stared at Frank attempting to read whatever facial expressions the boy let show. A smile raised to his lips.

"To be honest, I can't promise anything except for the fact that I'm going to try to be okay. I want to be okay, but, I was just never really given a reason to be okay."

"That's all you can do, I suppose." Mikey smiled back, satisfied with Frank's response.

"Yeah." An awkward silence fell across the table like a veil but Frank was relieved that Mikey didn't press the issue any longer. The truth is Frank didn't want to change himself, he liked himself just the way he was. He wasn't hurting anyone besides himself, so why should it matter to anyone?

Gerard slid into the seat next to Frank, brushing his leg against Frank's. A Chill ran up Frank's spine and he slid his chair farther away from Gerard's. Gerard's tray was fuller than Mikey's had been and Frank was confused when Gerard shoved food in front of him.

"What are you doing?" asked Frank.

"Well, I figured by the way you were avoiding the gaze of the menu that you were hungry, but, when you didn't go to order anything I figured it could have been one of two things: One you could be anorexic because hell, let's face it you're skinny enough or two you forgot your wallet and was trying to forget about the food.  
So, me being fucking fantastic decided to buy you dinner. It's the least I can do, and you've gotta be hungry, right? When was the last time you ate, dude?" Gerard rambled shoving a checkered cardboard box at Frank, a cup filled with crispy fries and a styrofoam cup.

"Um…..This morn-no..um…Yesterday? I think…" Frank felt his cheeks begin to heat up. How could he not remember when he ate last? He was pathetic. Absolutely pathetic and now a complete mooch.

"How are you alive?" Mikey blurted out, through a chili-dog filled mouth.

"Yeah, man. Mikey and I wouldn't be able to miss one meal. We'd die." Gerard laughed unwrapping his burger and taking a huge bite out of it.

Frank looked down at the food in front of him. Completely guilty about Gerard buying it for him, but, the deed was already done and it'd not like you can return food. He unwrapped the checkered box, and looked down at some sort of chicken sandwich. Fuck. It had meat on it.

Although Frank normally didn't like to eat anything that had been touching meat, he definitely wasn't going to eat the meat for Gerard. Feeling completely guilty doing it, but not able to give up his moral values completely, he reached in and took the meat off of the bun. He abandoned the dead decomposing flesh in the upper half of the box and placed the upper bun back onto the now lettus, tomato and mayonnaise sandwich.

Pushing the fact that the decomposing flesh had been resting upon the vegetative bed far out of his brain, he took a deep breath and bit into the sandwich. The warm bread and crispy lettus slid down his throat and tasted like pure bliss. Frank had never known that food could have ever tasted so good, of course that was probably just the time to food ratio talking.

"Do you not like chicken?" Gerard asked noticing the now forgotten chicken.

"Um…I'm actually just a vegetarian." Frank glanced up from his 'MLT' into Gerard's coffee brown eyes. His enchanting eyes. Holy Shit did he just?


	14. Chapter 14

Frank's sudden change in thought towards Gerard shifted him into a state of utter confusion as he picked at his Mayonnaise, Lettus and tomato sandwich. His adolescent thought provoking emotions made him sick. Gerard was a bastard, even if he did offer to buy him a totally different sandwich after learning he was a vegetarian.

Actually, it was Gerard's pretending to be a good guy that was **what **made him sick. How was Frank supposed to forgive someone that fast and easily when he'd made Frank's life a living hell. Why would he all of a sudden think Gerard's eyes were enchanting. He stared at the table deep within his hating thoughts as Mikey and Gerard giggled like school girls across the table.

"Hey Fag-Frankie, are you going to finish your fries?" there it was, the Gerard Frank loved to hate.

"Take 'em, pig." Frank muttered beginning to trace the grooves in the table with his fingers once again.

"Hey. I'm not a pig. I'm a growing boy!" Gerard exclaimed grabbing the greasy fries and shoving them into his big mouth.

"Whatever you say big boy." Frank replied nonchalantly mocking the greasy boy.

"That's what they all call me when they see my dick." Gerard winked and Frank choked on his own breath.

"Ew. Disgusting Gerard I did not need that visual." Mikey exclaimed spitting out a bit of his sugary soft drink.

"Frank did." Gerard grinned.

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" Frank's growl was fierce. Gerard had never heard anything like it before in his life.

"Nothing I mean…well….Obviously since you're a faggot you enjoy that kind of stuff. Those visuals." Gerard stereotypically replied with a grin after regaining his composure.

"Oh yeah. Of 'course. I'm gay so every penis must thrill me, and yours must be the top of the food chain for someone so unpopular as me." Frank sarcastically replied, then continued in a more serious tone: "If that's the way you think Gerard you've got another thing coming. I may be gay, but I'm looking for true love, not the first dick I can get ahold of.

Even I have standards and your STD encrusted penis is **not **one of them. You wanna flaunt your bisexuality around somewhere else, be my guest. But, I am NOT your experimental game, and I will **not **let you treat me like shit just because I'm different. **I am still a human being and deserve respect even if I am gay. **Oh, and call me a faggot, or try to and I'll shove a rake so far up your ass you'll _taste it. _"  
Gerard stared at Frank his mouth agape. For the first time Frank actually stuck up for his sexuality completely he sure made an impression on the cherry headed boy. An awkward silence engulfed the table and Mikey abandoned it to 'go refill his soda' but, it was probably just to escape the crazies. The silence at the table was broken when Gerard began to clap.

Confused as hell, Frank just stared at the surely insane boy across from him.

"Wonderful overdramatic monologue. Do it again!" Gerard laughed still clapping, but, inside his head hidden by his ego and pride Gerard was hurt far worst than anyone would ever know.


	15. Chapter 15

Gerard and Mikey's living room was quaint. It's walls were a mocha brown color and the furniture adorning the room was an olive green. The room was small and Frank sat on a love seat underneath the picture window. a huge couch sat to his left that turned to create a perfect half rectangle around the brown rug and glass coffee table. The flat screen television played aimlessly in the front of the room being ignored by all life as it showed some television show about food. Frank's eyes nervously scanned the room resting for a second on the family photos on the wall and an odd picture of vibrant flowers that didn't really seem to fit with the rest of the room. Curious about the picture Frank raised himself from love seat and moved closer to the picture.

Staring up at the picture Frank's eyes followed the lines of the lilies around the paper like a map. Their petals intertwining and changing color as they did. It was the type of art you could get lost in, which was probably the reason it was on display in the living room of the way house.

"I see you like Gerard's painting." Frank jumped and spun around to face the old woman standing in the dim hallway. "He painted that for me last year for my birthday."

"Gerard painted **that?! **" Frank asked flabbergasted.

"Of course he did!" the woman laughed sitting down on the couch in front of the painting.

"Wow. It's amazing. I had no idea he was that talented….I mean…I knew he was talented, but, wow. That's just….it's phenomenal…something you can really get lost in." smiled Frank still examining the painting.

"That's what he's good at I suppose. Something you can get lost in. You should hear him sing. " The old woman smiled truly proud of her boy. The perfect grandson.

"Wait. He can sing?" Frank was truly shocked by this.

"Can he sing? Do angels fly? He's got a beautiful voice. He was Peter Pan in the musical a few years back." The woman smiled a warm, wide, smile.

"Isn't that normally played by a woman?" Frank asked holding in his snickers.

"Yes, but, you haven't seen me in tights." Gerard's cocky voice echoed in from the hallway, as he carried in a tray with three cups, cream, sugar and a plate of steaming chocolate chip cookies oozing chocolate chips onto the plate. Frank's eyes lit up when he saw the cookies, and he instantly felt his mouth begin to salivate. The smell hit his nose like a bullet, and he tried to hide the fact he was eying the cookies. The only cookies he ever had were the ones out of a package that read "Oreo" on it. If the boy were to bake something he'd burn the house down for sure.

"Ooh. What's this?" the old woman asked.

"Coffee and I hope you don't mind…I took your cookies out of the oven and figured I'd put them on the plate too." Gerard smiled stirring sugar into a cup of coffee and handing it to his grandmother.

"Cookies are for eating are they not?" She smiled bringing the coffee up to her mouth, her elegant rings glistening in the sunlight drifting in through the window.

Realizing he was being awkward Frank sat down next to the old woman, and put his cupped hands onto his spidery legs.

"Frank, how do you like your coffee?" Gerard asked smiling.

"Um…I've never really…"

"YOU HAVEN'T HAD COFFEE?!" Gerard yelped cutting Frank off.

"Does Iced tea count?"

"NO! ICED TEA DOES NOT COUNT. Oh my god. What has this world come to….freshman not having coffee before…it's a sin…a downright sin. WHY JESUS WHY?" Gerard went off.

"Gerard Arthur Way. We do not do that to our friends when they haven't tried something. We offer them one." Gerard's grandmother smiled, picking up the final cup. "Now, Frank…do you like bitter things?"

Frank shook his head 'no' and watched the elegant hands pour a generous amount of milk into the cup, and then scoop two cubes of sugar into the cup. He took the cup from her and sniffed the creamy colored liquid, before sticking his tongue down into the cup to taste it like a cat.

"Oh come on Princess! I need to know what you think!" Gerard exclaimed staring at the boy. Taking a deep breath Frank took a heaping gulp of the coffee. The bitter liquid hit his taste buds and they felt like they exploded, he grimaced squinting his eyes up.

"That is vile." he muttered, coughing.

"Vile?! Vile?! That's the liquid of the gods!" Gerard exclaimed as Frank continued coughing. "Oh, uh…here…have a sugar cube."

Frank grabbed the sugar cube shoving it into his mouth….it instantly took the bitter woody taste away, and replaced it with a sweet one.

"Thanks, Gerard." Frank muttered placing the cup away from him onto the coffee table.

"It's a good thing you two are getting along so well, considering you're going to be room mates for the next week." Gerard's grandmother smiled.

Gerard spit out his coffee onto the table like a bad slap stick comedy routine.

"Wait….he's staying in my room?" he stuttered.

"Yes, he will be. You have the pull-out couch in the basement, after all this boy has been through don't you think he should be sleeping on something more than the floor in Mikey's room?" Gerard's grandmother explained to the two dumbstruck boys.

The ideology of the two boys being room mates after all the hell they put each other through was ridiculous, but, the two would have to learn to like one another whether they liked it or not…fast.


	16. Chapter 16

Frank was being dragged into the basement of the way house by Gerard's pale hands. If he'd hadn't known better he'd have thought it was a terrifying nightmare he'd had once before, except this time Gerard didn't have a machete. Which brought great relief to Frank. The basement smelt of must, cinnamon and cigarette smoke as Frank tumbled into the dimly lit room almost toppling over onto Gerard. He'd missed the last step. Mentally punching himself for being so clumsy Frank surveyed the room.

Brown paneled walls lined the room making it feel smaller then it really was. The four walls were adorned with horror movie posters on the walls, some in frames, some just taped up on the corners. There was a dresser, a twin sized bed shoved carelessly against a wall underneath the only window in the room making it seem like it was almost a couch. A Television with a Couch was sprawled across from it right in front of where Frank was standing. The room was small, but homey. There were two doors on either side of the room and Frank's curiosity urged him to ask what they were to, but he swallowed the words down into his throat feeling it would be an inappropriate remark.

"Welcome to my jail cell." Gerard muttered wandering over to his bed and sprawling himself onto it lazily.

"It's cozy." Frank smiled moving to sit down on the couch.

"WHOA, WHOA, WHOA, WHOA. DON'T SIT THERE!" Gerard lunged at Frank scaring the poor boy half to death.

Frank tumbled forward onto his face to avoid the couch and Gerard tumbled on top of him knocking the breath right out of him. Frank stared up at Gerard pinned to the ground underneath the boy's weight.

"You sit on that couch, I'll kill you." Gerard near-growled.

"Why?" Frank replied shakily breathless from supporting Gerard's weight on top of him.

"Because, it has my nesscesities in it." Gerard replied nonchalantly his face becoming a wide grin. "Enjoying this?"

"Wha?" Frank asked loosing the 't' while pondering what Gerard could possibly mean by the couch having his nesscesities in it.

"Our bodies being pressed together, being pinned to the floor by my body, helpless at my very finger tips." Gerard's words were emphasized by the thrust of his hips against Frank's. Startled Frank began to struggle.

"Get off of me Gerard, you're not funny. Get the **fuck **off." Frank struggled. Luck must have been in the boy's favour because he managed to roll over on Gerard so he was towering over the boy.

"Ohh, you like to be on the top do you? Well, I can live with that, sugar." Gerard smiled still playful.

"Gerard Way, you listen to me. I am not under any circumstances interested in your STD encrusted dick, or any other part of your disgusting body. I'm just trying to survive my last week in Belleville since someone wouldn't let me kill myself when I had the chance. So, for the rest of the duration of my time here I would appreciate it if you would keep a healthy two feet away from me at all times." Frank asserted holding Gerard's shoulder's down.

"Wait? it's your last week in Belleville?" Gerard asked shocked making eye contact with Frank. His eyes showed a certain hurt that Frank couldn't really place.

"Yeah, I reckon my Aunt's going to want to take me to live with her."

"Whe-Where's that?"

"California."

"CALIFORNIA? YOU CAN'T MOVE TO CALIFORNIA!" Gerard's sudden exclamation caught Frank off guard and Gerard took the opportunity to roll his body back onto the top of Frank's. "You can't move to California!"

"Why? What's it matter to you?" muttered Frank struggling against Gerard.

"Because…I'd miss you." Gerard's voice was barley audible.

"You! Miss Me? Ha!" scoffed Frank.

"I would….I know it sound's weird. But, I feel I have a connection with you."

Frank's eye's bulged. "What kind of connection?"

"I dunno….a friendly connection."

"Well, as long as that friendly connection stays 2 feet away from me at all times, I'm okay with that…I guess." Frank laughed out as Gerard got off Frank and stood to his feet.

"A Two-foot connection, eh? Well, that's going to be sort of difficult considering we're going to have to share my bed."

"WE'RE WHAT?"

"Going to have to share my bed. Did I stutter?"

"WHY?"

"Because, the couch has my necessities hidden in it." Gerard moved to the couch, lifting up a pillow he pulled out a bottle of booze, and a package of cigs. "See?"

Gerard Way, was an Alcoholic and smoked? Well…somehow that didn't surprise Frank.


	17. Chapter 17

Gerard Way had never slept with a man before, other than his little brother. The idea of sleeping in the same bed with Frank both aroused him and terrified him. Sure, he'd had plenty of girls in his bed. He was Gerard Way after all. The Number one stud at Belleville High. The challenge would be to find a girl who hadn't slept with him rather than someone who had. Gerard could have slept with 1000 of women and not have been prepared to have another man in his bed. It just wasn't something guys did, but, then why couldn't he stop thinking about having Frank in the same bed as him?

Pushing his thoughts to the back of his head, Gerard shuffled about the room looking for his other way, Frank would have a pillow to rest his head on while they slept that night. Gerard never liked to share when it came to pillows….or comforters, but, for some reason his mind was telling him to make an exception when it came to Frank.

He reached atop his book shelf containing not a single book, but hundreds of X-Men and Crummy Horror comic books and art supplies to try and find his other hospital white pillow. His hand resting on something soft Gerard realized he'd found the pillow underneath a game of Scrabble and a deck of playing cards. Letting out a defining war-call like whoop and scaring the crap out of Frank he pulled the pillow down and chucked it directly at the short black haired head of his new friend.

Bullseye. The Pillow collided with Franks face and he toppled over onto the bed sputtering.

"That was unnecessary." Frank muttered, but failed to hide the wide grin on his face.

"What are you talking about? It was completely necessary. Pillows should never be handed to anyone when they have the option of being thrown." smiled Gerard wandering over to his Holy Grail of sorrows. He lifted up the middle couch cushion and pulled out a bottle of Grey Goose. His only way of channeling his emotion. Popping it open, he slammed the burning liquid down his throat in gulps. His body automatically relaxing under the familiar taste.

"Why do you drink that stuff?" asked Frank who had managed to wander over to Gerard's side while he was busy indulging himself in his greatest pleasure.

"Because It's tasty." Gerard stated simply, dropping to the floor in front of the couch so that his back rested against the front of it.

"No, it's not. It's a disgusting habit…not to mention you're not even legally allowed to have it."

"That's not true. It's an acquired taste-like coffee or….um….chocolate."

"Chocolate is not an acquired taste. If you don't like it chances are you're Satan incarnate." giggle Frank. Wow, was that a sound Gerard liked.

"Truer words were never spoken!" Gerard giggled back taking another long swig from the Grey Goose bottle.

"Seriously though, why do you drink that stuff?" Frank was now sitting cross legged in front of Gerard staring at the liquid in the bottle like it was a snake about to bite him.

"It my escape." Gerard's smile was dim, and so forced it looked more like a grimace.

"Your escape? What do you mean?"

"Alcohol, a liquid of the gods really…..it helps me forget, calms me down, lets me forget about my problems. It's more powerful than Xanax….but, when taken together….they are like….It's difficult to explain."

There was a silence that fell over the room as Frank thought about what Gerard was saying to him. Xanax….where had he heard that name before?

_"You put my son on Xanax?!" Mr. Iero's voice boomed at the doctor._

_"Mr. Iero, please calm down. It was a simple prescription mistake. Nothing a little weening-off can't fix." The doctor's finger's moved over the notepad in front of him in a frenzy to write out what he needed to do to help Frank._

_Franks eyes darted about the room through his blurred vision, his legs were shaking underneath his body out of his control, the sweat poured down his forehead into a puddle on the floor._

_"You don't accidentally prescribe a 12 year old boy Xanax!" Mr. Iero screamed again._

_"There is no need for the yelling. I simply meant to write; Alpain, but my mind wandered and I wrote Alprazolam. I am sincerely sorry and will do everything in my power to help Frank feel better." The doctor muttered, pressing the nurse call button his desk._

_"You bet your over-paid ass you will! You're lucky I don't take you to court for this!" Mr. Iero said harshly, sending a worried look to Frank who had suddenly stopped shaking._

_"We'll have to admit him into the hospital until his dependency to the drug weakens, and he is no longer exhibiting symptoms." The doctor smiled, hopeful for Frank's recovery and the successful stop of a lawsuit. Just as the nurse wheeled in a wheel chair Frank clasped unto the ground shaking wildly and uncontrollably._

"Hey, Princess. Are you sleeping with your eyes open? Are you okay?" Gerard's hand in front of Frank's face startled him out of his flash back.

"Sorry…I was thinking." Frank muttered looking up at Gerard.

"Anyway, I was saying; The only way you can realize how amazing it feels is to try it." Gerard pushed a bottle and a hand of pills at Frank.

Frank looked at the pills deep in thought, maybe it be better than cutting…besides, what did he have to loose? Certainly not his life. He wouldn't miss that in the slightest.


	18. Chapter 18

Frank stared at Gerard who looked like he was having a staring contest with the wall from the corner of the room. He refused to move anywhere near Gerard while he was intoxicated and in this mood. Frank was honestly scared. He'd never seen Gerard in such a hateful mood towards himself. Whenever Frank had talked to him he'd always been so confident so cocky. This was a side of Gerard Frank had wished he'd never seen.

"Fucker." Gerard broke the silence, Frank's eyes darted over at him. He was trying to stand up, but kept falling every time he did. Frank rushed over to his side.

"Here…let me help you." Frank reached down to grab Gerard's arm to balance him. Gerard flinched and slapped his hand away.

"I can dooit..." he slurred, "you don' need to help me. I nevah he-he-elped you."

"Alright…" Frank said throwing his arms up defeat. With an exasperated sigh he plopped himself down on the bottom of Gerard's bed. He wasn't about to waste his time arguing with a drunk, he'd done that enough with his father when he was alive. Frank's heart dropped.

Gerard was just like his Father. Escaping reality because it was too hard to bare with the bottle. Unable to think about Gerard any longer frank rushed over to his duffle bag on the floor by the basement and pulled out a bottle of black nail polish. He made his way back over to the bed and began to paint his thumb nail black as a raven.

Not that he knew why, but, Frank always loved the smell of nail polish. It calmed him and being a punk he had the ability to paint his nails. Hell. He was already called a fag, what's a little nail polish? He had finished his left hand when Gerard came over and plopped onto the bed making him paint his knuckle black.

"Fucker." Frank muttered, trying his best to rub the nail polish off on his jeans.

"What are youu doing?" Gerard asked studying the nail polish brush in Frank's hand.

"Painting my nails, what does it look like?" Frank asked working on scratching the nail polish on his knuckle off.

"Why? I thought g-girls did that." Gerard muttered, then giggled. "Fwankie baby, are you a girl?"

Frank froze staring up at Gerard. Being called baby when Gerard was drunk frightened him.

"I suppose it could be, but, it's not like I'm painting them bright pink. Just black. It adds...um..character." Frank muttered trying to save his little dignity he had left.

"Character? Like Ren & Stimpy?" Gerard asked curious.

"What?...No! No!"

"I want to be a c-character? Gimmie!" Gerard reached his hands out towards the bottle. Frank snapped it away.

"No, no no. If you want nail polish, I will paint your nails. Heaven knows what you'd do with it, drunk."

"I'm not drunk." Gerard slurred.

"And I'm a Fairy." Frank muttered, grabbing Gerard's hand and turning it over.

"Fwankiee the fairy." Gerard slurred watching intently as Frank moved the bristles of the brush across his finger. "Where are you wings?"

"Revoked."

"WHY?!" Gerard exclaimed pulling a face directly out of an emoticon.

"Because I'm a horrible person." Frank sighed finishing Gerard's middle finger.

"No you're not. You're one of the n-nicest people I know. I fuck you up everyday and you're here, helping me paint my nails. You're helping me, and I treat you like fucking dirt under my feet. I'm the horrible person. I deserve to go to hell. You probably hate me." Gerard's odd moment of lucidity in his drunken stupor through Frank off guard.

"I don't hate you." Frank muttered, switching hands. He stared down at the bottle in his hands, he wasn't sure what his feelings were towards Gerard right now. Before the last few hours he hated the boys guts, and wanted nothing to do with him. But, now...he was sharing a room with him. He was painting his nails. He was having heartfelt conversations with him. They were saving one another's lives. Did that make them friends?


End file.
